Forget the World
by Chazzyheartslexi
Summary: When Alfred first meets Arthur, he feels a small spark that would soon blossom into love. But the worst time to experience this feeling is when there is a war brewing and the one you love just happens to join the opposite side. "In the end, it was always you I was fighting for..." [AmericanRev!USUK]


**Hello everyone! I can't believe how long it's been since I've posted a fanfic... This idea has been in my head for a long time, and now that we've been learning about the American Revolution in class, I just _knew _I had to write this. Anyway, there's no reason to change the rating yet, but here is an early warning for some violence and well... scenes that will make it rated M later on XD If that doesn't bother you, then I hope you will enjoy the fanfic! We start in the year 1763, just after the Seven Years War...**

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Alfred really hated pricklies. Hated the way they clung to every article of clothing he wore. What he seemed to hate most was when he had the misfortune of stepping on them. The experience was often painful, but Alfred Jones didn't _cry._ There was an explanation to the reason why his eyes got all watery. Just some dust was all.

"Alfred?" From the corner of his eye he could see Matthew's worried glance, could judge it by the tone of his voice. "Did you step on one of those grass burrs again?"

"No." And when the word came out, his voice definitely didn't shake. Not one bit. Although his vision did blur and distort before him. Funny… he could have sworn that he had put his glasses on that morning.

A sigh. "Let me see…" And the next moment his vision was obstructed by golden hair, perhaps but a shade lighter than his own. His little brother, which he still considered younger than him even though they were twins, was always one to worry. Even now that they were both 7 years old and could take care of themselves, Matthew seemed to make a big mess out of every little thing. There was a sharp stinging sensation at the bottom of his foot, and he bit his lip to stop the sound before it could escape.

"Don't cry, brother. It's out now." Alfred inspected his throbbing foot to see it free of the pricklies. He jumped to his feet, wiping the wetness around his eyes away. He tentatively took a step forward, realizing the pain had subsided to a dull ache now.

"Thanks," he mumbled, deciding to take his brother's previous advice and tugging on his shoes and socks, struggling with the lacing momentarily.

"Like this…" Another hand, smaller than his own, joined his and made two perfect loops, tying them together. Alfred frowned.

"I can do it, Matt!" This sort of event happened more often than Alfred liked to admit. His brother always seemed to take care of him. He was the boring one, the person that everyone forgot about at parties when his father would invite all those strange, white haired people over. He was the one who fumbled about while Alfred surged forward when they were playing tag. He was the one who Alfred could trust with everything- who knew all his dark secrets and wiped away his tears. For once, he wanted to be the one to take care of someone- to be the hero. But for now, he shrugged those thoughts aside.

It was a beautiful day, the one that makes the whole world seem alight and full of life. Birds were singing their sweet melodies and butterflies were flittering about like tiny rainbows with all their spectacular colors. Alfred took a moment as he sat on the front porch and watched all this with brightening smile. He grabbed Matthew's hand and tore off without warning into the woods. "C'mon Mattie!" He didn't have to glance behind to see that Matthew was struggling to match his pace- he always was the slower one. That thought made him let out a loud laugh, causing the butterflies to scatter around them.

It took but a few paces before they found themselves in the shelter of the tall oak trees and they entered a new world. "Shhh!" He put a finger to Matthew's lips when he opened his mouth to say something. "Alright soldier. The battle plan is this: run away from any Spanish or French men. They're moving on our titertory."

"Do you mean territory?" Matthew asked tentatively. He always was the smarter one.

"Yes, yes, that! Now, we have to be quiet, or else they'll find us… Got it?" He saw his little brother give a nod and then he turned his attention forward, making small steps forward. His gaze passed forth from every tree to every bush, nearly expecting the soldiers he had made up to jump out at them. His steps grew quicker, and he decided to mess with his brother a bit. He purposely stepped on a twig, a long snapping sound following the path of his foot. "Did you hear that?" Asked Alfred in a hushed voice filled with alarm. "I think they're behind us!" Matthew's eyes went wide as he looked all around them. When Alfred made another sound, kicking a small stone, the two of them took off running, trying to escape their unseen pursuers.

He didn't stop until they had reached a small creek, one that Alfred had dubbed "Swamp lake" because it always seemed a bit daunting and scary. He could already see all kinds of ghastly ghouls on the prowl, waiting for the right moment to latch out and attack them. The trees soared above them, great in height. They seemed to block out some of the sunset, giving everything an even creepier tone. Even Alfred let out a small gulp as he glanced around. Of all places he thought they would stop at, he didn't expect it to be this one. He put on a tough face and turned towards Matthew. "See anyone?"

"Y-yes… Right there!" Alfred's mouth opened in shock as he followed Matthew's outstretched finger, noticing a huddled figure in the distance. He daringly snuck over to it, feeling Matthew take his hand, probably scared out of his mind. As he approached, he noticed that it was a small boy wearing a hooded cape. He had a book in his hands and was mumbling something incoherent. Spanish. He had to be Spanish. Alfred had never met one in his life, but how else could he explain the strange language the boy was speaking?

He felt Matthew tug in the opposite direction, obviously wanting to get as far away from the strange figure as he possibly could. Alfred just shook his head, curious. The hood obscured the boy's face, and Alfred's curiosity would not be fulfilled unless he saw what was underneath it. He imagined that the boy would have some weird features, perhaps some pointy ears or a bloated face and that was why he had to wear the hood. He could wait no longer and took hold of the black fabric, pulling it down to reveal shaggy blonde hair.

"BOLLOCKS!" The boy cried, looking frightened himself. He turned to face Alfred, clutching the book to his chest as if it were a lifeline. He took heaving breaths, face completely white and that's when Alfred noticed it. This kid had the biggest eyebrows he had ever seen. They seemed to take over his whole face and even now in his fear they were raised in a comical fashion. To Alfred, they resembled large caterpillars and he found himself laughing, reaching forward to pull at them. The boy's face turned a shade of pink and he pushed Alfred's hands away. "Let go of me! Who do you think you are?" And that's when he realized that the kid was British after all, judging by his accent. Alfred himself used to have one, but over time it faded, leaving him with one that was common around the Americas.

"You have the hugest eyebrows ever!" Alfred giggled, stating the obvious. Matthew stood shyly behind him, never once letting go of his hand. "Don't ya think so, Mattie?"

"I suppose…" Was his small reply. The boy glanced between the two of them, looking offended.

"Excuse me?" The boy took a small huff, standing up. He was a good few inches taller than Alfred, and he had to crane his neck slightly to meet his gaze. "Is that something you should say to someone you've just met?"

"When they have eyebrows that big, then yes," Alfred muttered without thinking, noticing a firm frown appear on the boy's face with the words. He turned and saw Matthew's stern gaze, knowing that even he probably felt he was being rude. He sighed, deciding to deter the conversation to a different topic. "Names Alfred. Alfred F. Jones!" He stuck out his right hand, which the boy took and shook a few seconds later.

"Arthur Kirkland…"

"Matthew," Came his brother's soft voice behind him. Arthur merely nodded and then turned his gaze back to Alfred.

"Why are you here? This is my land." Arthur said in an unwavering voice, gesturing to the creek.

"It's _British_ land," Corrected Alfred with an amused smile. "Anyway, what were _you _doing out here? Were you speaking Spanish earlier?"

"No. I was in the process of preforming a spell." Alfred had no idea what the word "process" meant, but he sure knew what a spell was and at the mention of the word, he perked up.

"Does that mean you're magical, like a witch or something?" He could already picture it- Arthur wearing a large hat- one that would cover his eyebrows- and a broom. It was priceless! He struggled to keep his laughs from escaping, glancing down at his shoes.

"No."

"A fairy?"

"No."

"…A goblin?"

"No!"

"A wizard?"

"Perhaps…" Arthur's features settled into a thoughtful one as he flipped through the book, not seeming to even read the words, but to just feel the pages fluttering beneath his fingertips as he did so. "Yes, you can call me that."

"But I thought they didn't exist…" Matthew said, finally stepping out from behind Alfred. "That's what mother and father always told us, anyway…"

"Well they do," Replied Arthur, a smirk spreading about on his face. "It's just been a secret. Can't have everybody controlling the dark arts, can we?" Thoughts of the Salem Witch Trials that had taken place nearly a century ago popped in Alfred's head. He remembered the stories his father would tell. Stories of people who were killed just because people suspected them of witchcraft. How families were torn apart and children left without parents as they were all accused and thrown in jail or hung. He heard that their spirits still lingered about Massachusetts and that they would forever haunt the descendants of the people who persecuted them. Suddenly, the thought of Arthur as a witch wasn't so funny anymore.

"You shouldn't do that stuff. Witches and wizards are bad," Alfred said, suddenly worried about this boy. "Don't you remember the witch hunts?"

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, seemingly in deep thought. "Yes… I do recall mum mentioning that. Those people did nothing wrong though. It was just a case of hysteria." Yet again, going off with words Alfred didn't understand. He suddenly wondered how old Arthur was, bringing forth the question. Arthur seemed confused by the sudden change in conversation and sighed.

"I'm eleven." That explained their size differences. Alfred decided that one day he would grow to be taller than Arthur. He couldn't wait to look down on him for a change.

"We're seven," Alfred said, watching as Matthew was distracted by a squirrel and pushed a few nuts towards it. Arthur seemed to notice this as well and shook his head with an amused smile. He gazed back towards Arthur and grinned. "Mattie's always loved animals. He has this stuffed bear at home that he still sleeps with every night. Don't tell him that I told you though."

"I won't," promised Arthur as he glanced towards the tips of the trees. It was one of those perfect moments- the one where just one simple coincidence could lead to something beautiful. And as the clouds parted ahead, leaving but a crack of light to shine down between the trees, Arthur was illuminated with a gentle glow that brought a certain sparkle to his eyes. Alfred hadn't noticed it before with the way he kept glancing to his eyebrows and all, but Arthur really had the most spectacular eyes. He found that they were a forest green that could match up to even the woods around them and there was a deeper, almost hidden shade of brown if one looked close enough. Alfred found himself leaning in towards Arthur, entranced by the sight.

"W-what?" Arthur's face turned a pale shade of pink, embarrassed by their now close proximity and he took a small step backward, averting his gaze. "If it's something about my eyebrows again, I swear I-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you had the most greenest eyes?" Asked Alfred before he could even realize what he was saying. A few seconds ran by and Arthur seemed surprised by the words, making Alfred realize how girly that must have sounded. "I mean… uhh… Well, your eyes are really green."

And that was the first time he saw it- the first time he saw Arthur's smile, a genuine one. It seemed to light up his features even more and Alfred had to look down lest he be blinded by it. "Thank you…" It seemed his reaction was contagious and Alfred soon smiled sheepishly in return.

"You're welcome." And before he could say another word, he heard a yell in the distance.

"Alfred, Matthew! Come in for dinner!" His mother. She always seemed to have to yell into the forest to get their attention when they were playing. They knew not to go too far into the woods, lest they run into a tribe of Indians, so they were usually able to hear her quite clearly.

"We have to go." Alfred stated the obvious, Matthew joining him by his side. "Could we hang out tomorrow?" Arthur merely nodded, waving as they took off.

"See you!" Alfred exclaimed, pushing past tree after tree until they could see the white walls of their house before them. The Jones family wasn't known to be one full of wealth and prestige. They were more of a modest family with substantial means. Or, at least, that was what Alfred's mother had always told him. His father, Mr. George Jones, was a farmer of sorts who was always bringing in fresh vegetables from their garden. His mother was a seamstress, always working with nimble fingers to create the most colorful garments. Together, they raised the two boys in a comfortable home with hopes of a great future for them.

Even if that was so, Mrs. Lucy Jones was very upset when she saw her two, innocent little boys tracking dirt inside the house. As soon as Alfred met her fiery gaze, he knew he was in trouble. Matthew, being the sly boy that he was, ran off to his room before their mother could say anything, whereas Alfred was frozen in place by her steely gaze. "Hi." Was all he said, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight from one side to the next in a nervous sort of dance.

"Alfred Jones!" He flinched at this, knowing that his mother only used his full name when he was extremely angry. "Put those shoes outside. You know better than to track mud in here."

"Alright…" Alfred frowned, slipping his shoes off and putting them on the front porch, returning to see that he had somehow angered his mother further.

"Yes mam." She corrected. His mother was never the cruelest parent, but she was quite strict, always one to ensure her children had the utmost manners.

"Oh, Lucy…" Alfred brightened when George stepped beside his mother, draping an arm around her shoulder. "Lay off him already. So he brought a few specks of dirt in here, I'll get it later." He sent a small wink to Alfred, obviously on his side. This caused Alfred to give him a smile, slipping away as his father directed her back into the kitchen. "Now, about the carrots…"

"Mattie!" He called, dashing into the room they both shared. He could see that his brother was seated on the floor, that white bear he always clung to in his hands. "Why do you always run out on me?"

"I took off my shoes at the door." Funny… Alfred could have sworn that his brother had come in with them too… Maybe he hadn't noticed. It was really easy to ignore Matthew anyway. "And even if I had been there with you, I don't think I would be the one getting in trouble." Alfred groaned in frustration, flopping on his bed. It was true. No matter what Matthew did, he never seemed to have to go to time out. His parents didn't even count to three when Matthew was eating the last cookie in the cookie jar or when he came into the kitchen to eat without washing his hands. He guessed it was because he was so quiet about it. Maybe they really hadn't seen him do half these things in the first place. Alfred, on the other hand, was loud about everything. As a child, they called him "the raging tornado," always spinning around and talking everybody's heads off. It was easy to see that Matthew was overshadowed by him, and for once, as Alfred sat there reflecting on it, he found that this made his brother lucky.

From the thin walls separating their room from the hallway and kitchen, the two boys were able to make out Geroge's voice. "Can you believe it Lucy? The war is over."

"It's a marvelous thing, that is. How long have we been fighting, three years now?"

"Seven, I believe…"

"A seven years war. Well I'll be." Time seemed to rush past them so fast in their little town. All Alfred knew was that the English had been in this war since the day he was born. At the mention of it all being over he jumped up, curious.

"This really proves it honey; the English nation is the strongest empire in the world." He could already picture the proud smile that was on his father's face. His father's brother, Alfred's Uncle Tom, had been fighting in that war, and when he had returned to the colonies last week, everyone had been ecstatic. This must be the explanation for his sudden return.

"We won!" Alfred cheered, jumping up and down. He pulled Matthew in a tight hug, overjoyed at the thought. "Us Brits are the greatest!" Although the Jones family had lived in the colonies for many years, they still considered themselves proper Englishmen, even going so far as having tea with every meal. "I always knew we were!"

Matthew merely gave Alfred a relieved smile, pulling away from the embrace. "Yes. It will be nice to talk about something other than the war during dinner now."

"Awww! But I loved hearing about the guns!" Anything about muskets, bayonets, or even pocket knives always brought a grin to Alfred's face. Weapons fascinated him, and he often pictured himself as a British general in the future. He had decided that as soon as he was old enough, he would enlist in the British army. Knowing now that England was the greatest empire brought a surge of excitement towards him. He couldn't wait to sign his name down and become a true soldier, one of valiant strength and courage. "Let's make a promise Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, taking his brother's hand. "As soon as we're old enough, let's join the English army!"

Matthew nodded, shaking on it. "I promise. We'll work together and win every war." This childish promise left the two of them in silent joy for a few moments before their mother's voice interrupted the moment.

"Alfred, Matthew! Come make this table so we can get dinner." Alfred sighed with a small pout, always hating that job. But as he walked into the kitchen, taking a stack of plates from his mother, his thoughts soared high and left him with a bounce in his step. He might be setting tables and doing dishes now, but when he was older, he would be the greatest soldier ever- he just knew it.

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**And that's chapter ichi! X3 Hope it was alright O3O' Review would make me the happiest person on this planet XD Any suggestions, feedback, flames (; o ;), etc. are welcome. Let me know what ya think so far and I'll be right out with chappie two as soon as I can! I have decided to go ahead and past the Alfred and Arthur's ages corelating with the events of the war in case ya wanna know in advance. So, yep! They will be adults when the Revolution comes~ **

**Note: I'm not sure if wizards and goblins were actually discussed in this part of time, so if there is a historical inaccuracy because of this, I apologize in advance. **

**1763 End of 7 years war- **Alfred: 7**, **Arthur: 11

**1765- Stamp Act- **Alfred: 9**, **Arthur: 13

**1767- Townshend duties- **Alfred: 11**, **Arthur: 15

**1770- Boston Massacre- **Alfred: 14**, **Arthur: 18

**1773- Boston Tea Party- **Alfred: 17**, **Arthur: 21

**1774- Coercive Acts**- Alfred: 18, Arthur: 22

**1776- Independence- **Alfred: 20**, **Arthur: 24

**End of War**- Alfred: 27, Arthur: 31


End file.
